Ring the Toxin
by Please.DONT.Panic
Summary: moved from my account Immortalis. Book... read anywho...
1. Chapter 1

**RING**

the

**TOXIN**

By Immortalis Ramala

**PART ONE**

_For every child who cries at night_  
_Alone with shame and pain and fright_

_For every child who wants so much_  
_To only feel a gentle touch_

_For the beaten child, who cries in pain_  
_whose tears run silent, like the rain?_

_For the child used to satisfy lust_  
_Who never learns to love or trust_

_For the child taken from her home_  
_And made to feel so all alone_

_For the child whose home is just a shell_  
_Where life becomes a living hell_

_For the child who smiles but cannot feel_  
_Because of scars too deep to heal_

_For every child who yearns for love_  
_I hope and pray to God above_  
_To hear your cries and heal your pain_  
_And give you back your life again_

Kathy Williams   
1964-1996

Chapter One 

It wasn't hot out, but it wasn't cold. It was simply warm, the air thick with humidity, the sun had set, and the moon was out painting the sky in moon rays. The day was old, and night was new. And here I was walking home with my arms draped over my chest, baby blue eyes down and looking at the ground, for what I knew was waiting for me behind the door of home. But I couldn't avoid it; I had no were else to go. Here I was in a v neck dress shirt with half arm sleeves, and a pair of short shorts clinging to my waist.

I was walking now for four hours, and I had long come to the conclusion that I hated dating, and boys were stupid arrogant pricks who made life a living hell. I had been on my first date today, at the age seventeen, which was considered rather pathetic; I do admit it is… But the guy had one thing on his mind as he drove us out to the beach, skipping out on that dinner I had been promised by him. Then Mr. High and mighty made my night even worse than a simple missed meal. He made a move, tried getting in my shorts, but really, that is the last thing I want, I rejected him, got out, yelled at him… And being a complete idiot, in stead of asking for a ride home, being much too angry to think straight, tolled him to 'get the fuck out of my sight you son ova bitch loser cow'. He drove away and very happily left me to walk home.

Fresh air was the _last_ thing I needed. I needed to be in home, in my room. For Christ sake, I had been so god for the past year, which I could actually wear clothing like I was. I would be forced to wear long, heating jeans and long sleeved shirts now, I was more than sure of it. Steeling a glance to the watch around my slim wrist, I saw the time was three in the morning. THREE IN THE FUCKING MORNING. I was supposed to be home at ELEVEN. I was more than screwed over because of that jack off I called a date. That's what one gets for not thinking before acting.

How could I have been so stupid?

_STUPID STUPID STUPID_

I could have at least gotten a ride home… But would that block head even let me ride back with him in the first place after stamping all over his manly pride. Would I have just been tossed out? Some days one just has the power to wish, and to give up. Good old dad was six foot seven tall, getting on in the years, fat and all, boring dull brown hair. Brown eyes. Really a plain guy to look at, but boy could that son ova bitch hit well. He might be out of shape, but next to someone, say… Oh, 5'6… He could easily beat the crap out of them. As in, me. He was irrational, a short temper, his motto, I swear, must be hit first, ask later.

Now, it was not my fault that I had gone with a prick who thought with his dick, but when I got home, when ever that is, it would be. And if I tolled him what happened he most likely would end up thinking I slept with that disgusting excuse of a human, and make things oh so much harder. Here I was three in the morning, and walking home. Maybe the big bastard was in bed… perhaps he forgot a certain someone was supposed to be coming home from a date…

Now who was living on day dreams and fairy tales?

Ah, here I was, my lovely home street. Now I am not just saying that it looks nice, it is very nice. My father is rich, upper class, respected, thus why he has the power, and the ability to keep his little matches with his lovely little daughter under wraps. I dare not even tell the few friends I had. Had as in I am that creepy loner girl who has her very own table to herself. Do I mind? Yes, but I really don't feel like I can relate to everyone these days. Someone was so kind as to tell me I was much like a zombie.

Well, at times I very well could feel dead. But I wasn't, at least not yet. Perhaps after tonight my status might just have to be changed to, well. Dead. Really, personally, I was not looking forward to finding that one out. I think I could actually do something with my life, I was brilliant, according to teachers, I did all my work, read frequently… Even if I have been dropped and smacked up side the head one to many times, it doesn't seem to truly have any effect on me other than constant headaches.

Here the street of my house was. The white house of the street, the other houses were darker, elegant yet gloomy. How ironic that my house seemed to be the safest, happiest houses on the block. It truly was far, far from that. Happy. It felt like a death trap.

Sighing reluctantly, as I looked at the door, lit up, like some divine entrance. But as I saw the lights on in the living room, I knew, basically, that I was 'fucked'. My dad was awake, waiting, and absolutely pissed. No, I have yet to spot the son ova bitch, but I know him better than anyone else does. Other than my deceased mother.

She knew the tales of me, miss Angelique Oleander, daughter of Marcus Oleander. A great lawyer who freed innocent men and woman, who prosecuted wife beaters, murderers, child abusers, and so on. As in, people much like himself. It takes one to no one… Not that anyone really knew that about him.

I learned to live with it when my mother Anne died of cancer. Lucky girl got out of the pain. He had turned all of his issues on me, it was no longer a split beating. But I learned to take it. Learned how to make keep the pain from coming. And tonight I basically screwed myself over.

Now here I was, finally home, and stalling. Every part of me wanted to run, to disappear and just forget this sad chapter of my life. But were would I go. Truly I knew people would not take my side. They would much quicker blame my date of tonight. They would feel sorry from him, never think that he was the bad guy. Here in Dimmorta, he was a hero. I was a problem child. A freak.

Well. Might as well be off and in to get what was coming for me. I knew it was coming, all I was doing was trying to stall this infliction from occurring. It wasn't going to make anything better, but even if this was something that I had grown up with.

I still dreaded it. How did I dread it so completely. But here I was, still waiting to cross the street, up to the white doors, and take what was coming to me.

Just the kind of luck I was getting tonight. Being so concentrated on my front doorstep I hand not heard another on the walks. Of course I ended up walking right into the only person outside now. Who ever that was, it was strange. Now three thirty in the morning in a upscale street… All those big boys in business and such, along with the kids going to school tomorrow… Well, excluding me… Were asleep and snuggled up warm in their beds.

The person I ran into had knocked my flat on my sorry ass. Was I the luckiest person in the world? I had gasped in shock as I hit the hard paved walks, feeling my elbows scrape skin off. As did parts of my legs. Well, hell, might as well start beating myself up to get ready for the explosion of my fathers temper. I winced at the thought of what he would be yelling at me behind the insolated, very sound proof walls of ours.

How angry would he be? Possibly this could be the worst beating he ever laid out. I couldn't think of anything more punishable for him. This was going to have him over the top pissed.

Funny, here I am, bleeding on the sidewalk, and thinking about what was going to happen. Not to what just had happened.

An elegant hand extended in front of my face, offering help in getting up. All that happened was me, staring at it for a moment before putting a scrapped, hand into the helper.

I bit my lip as the person pulled me up with ease. Made me feel like a piece of paper. Finally, for the first time I looked up at the person I had smacked right into. And it was a boy. Nothing at all like my date, whom had been handsome… But he held nothing to this guy.

This boy had blonde hair, it was obvious, even in the poor lighting that it wasn't his natural hair color… Yet how it suited him so well! His brows were dark, furrowed as if concentrating hard on something. His skin was pale, not scary pale, but still not the usual tanned person you found here. His skin looked smooth as a newborns, flawless and luminosity even in the bad light given off by the houses in front of us. His eyes were dark brown, such a deep brown. His body was lean and muscled, it was obvious under the button up shirt he had, that was snug up on his torso. His legs had black dress pants. He looked clean cut, like he belonged in this area… But the aura of him was compelling. I felt my heart race at the sudden realization of his soft silk like hand on my own. His hand was cold compared to the usually warm flesh of anyone else I touched hands with.

He was absolutely beautiful. Like a piece of art...

To me he looked like he should be a god, not some random guy walking down the street at three thirty. Now of course I realized that I was staring at the poor guy. Who looked like a god to me.

I managed a smile.

"Ah, sorry about that… I'm accident prone"

He still had his brows furrowed in the same look that had deep thought seemingly written all over it. But he managed a small upturn of his lips. A small smile, but it lightened the mood, and much to my embarrassment it made me swoon, I felt like I was about to start drooling.

"That's fine. I'm indestructible"

He joked at me, I grinned like a fool, unable to look away from him. His eyes held an amusement that seemed really only meant for himself. As if there was a joke within the joke.

"Um… Well… Sorry, I really got to go though"

"Late getting home and avoiding an angry attack of the parents?" the boy guessed.

I smiled wearily. The thought of my dad re-entering my mind. Panic and resentment must have been in my eyes, his brow furrowed further at it.

"Something like that"

He nodded, moving to the side, "Perhaps they will show merci on you because of your wonderfully executed fall"

He smiled as if trying to comfort me.

Memories swirled, then my mom, poor woman, entered my mind. I felt as if they had been herded out, but I pushed the feeling aside. I looked back to him, square in the eye, as having lost eye contact at the topic of my father… well. Parents.

"I doubt it"

I forced myself to look away from those deep, probing brown eyes. I waved over my shoulder as I rushed across the street without looking. And my luck a car was passing, and just missed hitting me. The driver honked and I froze. I didn't look back, as I could swear I felt eyes on me, my cheeks flushed an embarrassed pink.

That was when my dad flung open the door, his eyes wide with rage as he pointed at me.

"You, are in BIG trouble girl. Get yourself in this house on the double!"

I looked at him and cringed, steeling a glance over my shoulder, and saw no one. All that was behind me were the lines of trees in the thick forest. No one on the side walk.

Turning back to my dad I walked up the steps, taking in a deep breath, savoring it greatly. I walked to the door were my father was. He grabbed my harm, not even taking note to my physical injuries, though minor, they were noticeable. He never noticed. His iron grip pulled me into the house with extreme force. As I swallowed a scream and nearly fell, I could swear that I saw the boy were I ran into him… Where he had been missing when I looked back. The door slammed, giving me absolutely no time to confirm it.

As the door slammed, my world became a unbearable burning pain all over as I took hit, after hit. Screaming for everyone who couldn't hear me. In my room I lay on the floor, still. Quite, tears falling down my face. I felt so broken and fragile, never feeling this way before. Ever. Searing pain everywhere. How alone I felt in the ever so cruel world…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

This wasn't so nice today as it should have been; the sun was out, high and mighty radiating heat of about thirty degrees Celsius. Not a could in the bright blue sky that proudly hung far over the ground, the birds chirped, dogs barked, it was beautiful out.

But me? I was about to die of some overheating crisis. Here I was, waiting for my buss in long blue jeans and a black hoodie, with nice black sunglasses. Spending two hours at the mirror to cover up my black eye and cheek and also have it passing as 'natural' was something that proved a challenge. But I managed. It was only slightly noticeable.

Dimmorta today, and most days, was not meant for clothing such as mine. But then again, in this lovely town, no one else seemed to be getting beatings from their fathers.

I was black and blue every where. I was positive that I had more than one broken bone. I winced as I shifted. Make that five. My ribs had taken most of the heat last night, but my arms and upper legs also had quite the fight. And on top of that, the scrapes from my fall. For all I knew I was going crazy and that I had imagined the guy as a comfort to my clumsy self. Being me, it seemed a reasonable explanation.

Accept on how real his hand felt when he helped me up… Who ever this 'he' person was. I never got a name. I was never asked for mine, and never had he offered up his own name.

Finally, that big ugly yellow bus pulled around the corner and stopped in front of me, the bus driver looking on at me, who was obviously getting heat stroke already, with amusement. Yes, people tend to take pleasure from my pain.

My hands were already clammy; I was sweating due to the heat, and the agony I was feeling, even after a shot of morphine, via my dad's home nurse… Who for the record thought I fell down the stairs again, and made me sit threw one of her painfully long lectures. Makes you just want to scream what really happened. But never was I to do that, even if it stopped the pain, I would be thrust on the streets, or into a house were I new no one. I rather be beat than in a strange place.

Must make me weird.

Oh well.

I climbed the bus steps with great caution. Eyes closed and teeth clenched. I then stood a moment, the door closed, and the bus driver, Freddie, chuckled before he started to drive. I nearly fell flat on my ass right then and there. But I managed to stay upright and walk down eight rows of seats to sit in the sanctuary of my seat at the back of the bus.

It wasn't so bad, besides the pain at every single bump in the road. But half an hour after getting on, and ten people later, we were at Dimmorta High School.

_Later that day, at lunch_

God, math and science first in the day was absolutely and undeniably a living hell that no one disserved. Obviously, I seemed to 'disserve' this, as it happened EVERY single day for a whole blasted semester.

But it was lunch. Time to eat, though as my jaw was soar as a bitch I knew ahead of time it wasn't going to be an easy task. 

Walking towards my table, as in MY table, alone, no one ever sitting there, it was always left for me. And it was… Full… There were five strange kids…

Then I recognized one of them from the boy last night, my eyes felt like they were going to pop. He had a bloody twin also. As I looked at the five at my table, I felt anger flooding over me, most likely because of the surge of pain my body just got to. Storming over with a wild look of anger on my face, I stopped, with my back pack nearly weighing me down, and hands on hips, sun glasses still on causing a near run in with the table and about five people.

"Excuse me, this is my table"

The looked up, and continued to eat without talking, not a single word to me. What arrogant little pricks! So much for the hot godly guy being a nice person.

"I SAID, this is MY table. MINE. As not yours, get bent and find your own goddamn table!"

Not really a smart thing to say, because right then the biggest of them, a boy about six foot, and totally ripped, got up with a start, staring down at me, for a fleeting moment I let panic reach me. I nearly flinched at him. Boy did that send images of my father to me. I clenched my aching fists together, biting the inside of my mouth for control.

"Sorry miss, but this here table is currently being used"

The guy was so intimidating, and his voice was threatening. God that pissed me off how easily he was scaring me. Last night my date was tall, like my dad. But this guy, his eyes, or something was truly making me feel like I was taking on my dad. But I refused to let people see the fear I had of this new guy.

I stuck out my finger, and poked him in the chest region.

"Mine, ask anyone here. I am the freak who sits at this table. Piss off. Please and thank you"

That's when that ape, as if trying to show how retarded I seemed, poked me. For the record… I knew I was acting like a stupid little kid. Not hard, but it hit me in one of my ribs, one of which I am MORE than sure is broken. And I just doubled over in pain. I felt hot embarrassment flow to my cheeks. The guy was very surprised and shocked, and even looked guilty.

Hot tears were in my eyes, I had to get out of there as soon as possible. I got up fast, thus hurting myself further, the boy that I assumed was the one that helped me last night had a look as if he felt sorry for me. I turned around, put my head up and stormed out trying to cling to what pride I had left.

Of course I stormed right out the school and into the path of the little forest out back. That's when I let the tears fall. The moist salty liquid did a dance down my cheeks, ruining the cover up I had.

I never let anyone see me fall apart, not even my dad. He saw me scream, fight. But never break, never fall apart. But here I was, hiding in the trees and doing just that, out of the sight of anyone's scrutinizing eyes. How agonizing it was to have those eyes on you for all the wrong reasons.

And that tall boy, who ever he was that guy seemed to have my mind sending me warnings.

My subconscious was telling me to keep away. He would be just like my father. But in my mind I knew something was stranger than that, that there was more than the fear he struck deep into my heart.

But here I was thinking as I fell apart, now how many people could multitask like me? Now, that's when I felt a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump in shock, causing pain, thus causing more tears.

How embarrassing.

I lived to be strong, to hide what happened behind closed doors. And now I was starting to sweat and over heat. Trying to reign in my rollercoaster of emotions as the person again had a gentle hand on me, pulling me in and holding me.

Soft comforting sounds whispered in a beautiful voice to my ear along with the thunder of my erratic heart.

"Shhh. Its okay", the voice said gently, "just let it out"

For some strange reason I felt safe in the arms of this stranger, as I could not see who it was threw the thick fall of salty tears. My body was convulsing in pain and also because of the deepening sobbing. The embarrassment was leaving me, it felt… Freeing, to let out all of the bottled emotions, it felt liberating to have someone who acted they cared.

Even if it couldn't be true, it was a good feeling. But then I realized what I was doing, I let my walls come tumbling down in front of someone. I pulled back and flinched. Then that beautiful deep, yet somehow light voice spoke to me calmly.

"Did he poke you hard?"

I sniffed and felt confusion sinking in. What… Did who poke me hard…?

"Oh… No, he didn't, just in a soar spot"

One of the guy's hands rubbed my back lightly, despite the bruises and bones that were more than likely broken, it didn't hurt. The light touch felt healing… No… It felt… Numbing. I had finally taken notice to the fact that we were both on the ground, and my face was buried in a firm chest with a cinnamon scent.

I had gone to move off of the stranger to dry my eyes, but his one arm had become firm, his voice was low and soothing. I looked up at the stranger in question and instantly shock took over my entire body. It was the blonde boy, the one I saw last night, one of the new kids at the table. Our eyes connected, and as if locked, they would not move from his own.

He had a frown furrowing his handsome face. He was beautiful, my lord I think I fell in love with him, his brown eyes with such light, concern in them. He was looking right at me, directly, he wasn't looking threw. It looked like he actually cared.

But he didn't know me, I was a snob to his friends or family, what ever they were, and him. Why would someone care after all that was thrown in their faces. He stopped rubbing my back now, but I felt nothing, but my eyelids were so heavy. I felt them being pulled down by invisible weights. I clung to him, even if I was kneeling on the ground, again our eyes connected.

And everything was black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Note: **She blacked out, and there is only one person there … This is actually the rough outline of an actual book that I am writing. And her name is Angelique Oleander. So, I hope that you DO enjoy it. This will not be exactly like those in my Twilight fan fic with the Nocturnes and such, but I am glad to see people taking interest in it! I will be more motivated to add on the more that you read and rate! So keep on rating :)

ALSO! I RE-DID chapter three! It was so short and badly written. There is more to it now, much more, and hopefully actually worthy of being called well written. I will try to have the next piece up for tomorrow or possibly later this day. Most likely tomorrow though. And as to why its rated M, better safe then sorry, later there will be graphic violence, there will be swearing, ext, and as I said. Better on the safe side!

Please R&R

My eyes were closed still; still tired it seemed impossible to open up my heavy eyelids. I couldn't remember were I was… Was I at home still? Did I just wake from my fathers punishing fists? That is about when the wave of pain hit like I was just thrown into a wall, nausea hit me and finally my eyes shot open. I was in a strange place, panicking as I felt the nausea threatening at the back of my throat. I felt my ribs throbbing along with my head and left arm.

I looked around nearly vomiting on the strange tile tan floor. My body convulsed violently as a spasm shook my stomach, sending anything I consumed for what felt like my whole life, was forced out of me. As if by magic, a bucket was there waiting for the mess out of nowhere. And a person who had not just been there, for what I could remember seeing, Cool fingers brushed along my thin neck as my hair was pulled out of the way of the mess. A soft hushing, comforting voice whispered reassuringly into my ear.

It was that boy; I could swear it was him, the comforting tone, calm soothing voice. I didn't know his name yet I had felt calm at his voice, I reacted to his light touch. Becoming an obsessed child over a petty treasure out of my reach. But he wasn't petty. He was simply much too good for a simple girl, a social outcast such as me. But here I was in a strange place, with someone holding back my hair as I threw up. I felt like I was about to get rid of my eternal organs when finally it turned to dry heaving. Coughing as the nausea finally started to subside.

"Feeling any better?"

The voice was like a great song, it was laced with the séance of worry which should not have to be with such a beautiful voice. Who could have thought a male could have such a masculine, magically musical voice. I breathed in deeply, my body was full of agony, without the nausea and heaving to cover it up, I was feeling worse. My eyes looked over to the boy. The beautiful blonde sat beside me, a hand still gently pulling my hair back off of my face.

"No"

That was all that I could get out. The beautiful was so deep in the male that I just felt plain intimidated. Instantly shots of self consciousness flooded me which forced my eyes to peer back down to the ground, causing my stomach to turn at the sight of my stomachs contents. I had such a deep compulsion to look over to the handsome pale face of my comforter.

"Not going to throw up anymore though?"

I couldn't speak as again my eyes betrayed me to glance at the god that sat next to me. I shook my head. He smiled at me slightly as his hand lifted some soft napkin to wipe off what was left behind on my face. Again the god spoke, as that is the only word that seemed able to explain this guy's beauty, like a special hand crafted jewel, one of a kind.

"How did you break your ribs?"

Surprise filled me up as I looked at him. Then my memory started to reach me on what happened at lunch. I had crumpled to the floor like tissue paper at someone simply poking me lightly. And then outside, after I escaped being embarrassed by crying, this same guy found me. My cheeks started to turn a light red at that.

"I fell"

My voice was low and hushed, barely even a whisper, now how could I convince him if I could not convince myself. That's always the first step in a battle, my father tolled me that. He might be a bastard, but he has taught me a lot in life. True, life was a whirlwind of pain many times, but some things you learn from such monsters could protect you when you got thrust into the big bad world. The beautiful blonde stranger lifted a thick, dark eyebrow as he looked at me disapprovingly, I could tell he wasn't taking my lie.

"Really? The truth now, tell me how"

I looked away, those eyes seemed to be probing me for the truth, and I was not going to let some stranger know my personal life. No matter how heart-stoppingly beautiful this guy was. No matter how comforting his touch was, and exiting. This was someone who I did not know, there was no name yet given as to what I could call him, he hadn't a clue who I was, unless a student pointed me out and tolled a nasty story about me. My hands were fiddling with each other as my eyes looked down at them evadingly.

"I really fell. Down the stairs at my house"

He sighed with frustration, shaking his head, I watched him out the corner of my eye. It seemed an impossible task not to look directly at this beautiful being. My heart was racing erratically, as if I was about to break, as if lying to him would simply kill me. He must be an angel, wouldn't an angel make lying so hard to someone who was a natural spitter of lies? He looked over at me intently before again speaking.

"I don't believe you," he paused shortly as his eyes looked at me accusingly, "But what can I do. I am Nile, Nile Nocturne"

The look in his eye made me feel like a failure, like I was not worthy of his comfort and kindness, his presence. I never felt like that about a persons disapproving look before. It pierced straight threw my aching heart. I again forced myself to look away as his gaze made the day seem so much worse. And he wasn't trying to; he simply looked hurt that I wouldn't tell him the truth. But I just couldn't.

"I'm Angelique Oleander"

Finally I was able to react, as I finally had gotten his name and I wasn't able to return the favor for a short while. I stole a glance in his direction, catching eyes with him; again mine were the first to back down. He nodded ever so slightly and I caught myself swooning over him mentally. I had recovered from the previous blush, but now a new pinkness entered my cheeks.

"The lawyer's daughter"

He obviously knew some things already about me, at least my family. Hopefully it was not much, our dirty laundry was me, and our family pain was my mother. That was what people usually talked about. The dirty laundry and the reason for why Angelique was such a terror. Oh, my sweet mother, how I missed her. Finally I forced myself to nod as my memories of my mother flooded me, tears glazing my eyes, losing my voice yet again. He cleared his throat and got up, offering me a hand. Looking past it I swallowed a whimper that arose and nearly caused me to cry again. My emotions were like a rollercoaster today.

"I didn't think you would want to be back in the school, I just took you here to my family's house. No one is here. I can take you back now. You were out for a few hours Angel"

Angel. It was what my mother used to call me. It had been my nickname, and since she died no one was allowed to call me that. Angel was a special name to me, but it sounded so wrong and unnatural unless it came out of my mothers lips, though now that was not even in my dreams anymore. It sounded like music from him. Like a song written just for me from him.

"Oh"

Again, barely a word said, and barely audible too. Perhaps the fact I was in a stranger's house, alone should trouble me. But Christ, he was a god and I actually trusted him so completely. It should disturb me, that fact itself. But it didn't. None of this troubled me. He looked like he was waiting for me to say something more, but as to what, I was absolutely clueless.

"… So did you want to go back to school?"

I instantly blushed deeply as I noticed I really hadn't listened to a word he actually had said. I looked down, but soon was again looking into his eyes as if they were magnets and I was, well, magnetic. That was when the fact they might call home if I just randomly had gone missing, which I had. Fact was that I was a bad kid, but not the bad kid that skipped school, and my fathers statues might get phone call for one class being missed. Shit. How long was I asleep?

"Yes, please"

He looked around, and eyes settling on a clock on the far side of the room, my vision was great, but even I couldn't make out what the time was. Nile looked over at me sympathetically, as if he picked up on panic that started to flood me. A small reassuring smile covered his handsome lips.

"You missed school. I signed you out though, saying you weren't feeling up to it"

I looked at him and knew I should be getting home, even if my father wasn't going to be coming home until around nine at night, his worker bees around the house could very easily say I was late and get me in some more trouble. And after last night, there was no need to give my father any reason to become pissed off at me.

"You have real beautiful eyes, Angel"

Personally I did like my eyes; the baby blue hue was nice to go with my typical blonde hair. Simple straight, healthy hair, I was just a normal girl, and I really saw nothing truly spectacular about my self, I was Angelique Oleander, the daughter of a very respected lawyer, a rich and privileged young girl who seemed to take her life for granite. But my structure, my hair, even my eyes. There was nothing really special about me, I lacked any of that quality. Of course though, naturally, a red blush colored my cheeks. A smile played across my lips.

"Thanks… I guess"

He smiled at me, looking directly at me. He did not look threw me; he did not look like he rather be anywhere else. He looked like he wanted to be here, I knew I did. But what does my wants matter. Some things that I think I need never can be mine. How could a god become mine, one who gave me the joy greater than my mother could calling me Angel?

"You should smile more. You could dazzle people"

I knew my cheeks never had been as hot with embarrassment as I looked up to the boy innocently, my blue eyes had life in them, and I could feel the shine in them. My lord, could this have me coming off as an obsessive school girl, Nile was more than likely just trying to make me feel better, or maybe trying to sucker me into admitting how I broke my ribs. The truth scratched at the back of my throat as his eyes had the heated connection to mine. It was real life, unless I was having some amazing dream, he could not return my feelings. It was me after all. The loner.

"What do you mean? You don't know me really"

I said so lowly that it was unbearable, so I thought. He seemed to pick up on it, and his handsome face become serious, that frown furrowed his thick, dark eyebrows as he spoke to me. The intensity in his eyes, how could it be my imagination, I couldn't possibly have that creativity in me.

"You frowned in your sleep, and every time I see you, the less you seem to smile"

I looked away, knowing that this observation was more than true. What was it that I could have tolled this boy who called me angel? Sorry, you caught me on a bad day, a bad week? I knew even my good days I didn't smile much at all.

"Okay, let's go. I can take you home"

He said as he helped me to my feet, and led me out of the extraordinary house…


End file.
